Fred and George's Mysterious Pills
by editorbit
Summary: Nothing could have predicted the monstrosity of a day that was about to come.
1. Chapter 1

The day was like any other day. Harry went to all his classes, he ate lunch in the Great Hall with Hermione and Ron, he did some homework in the Common Room and went to the library with Hermione.

Nothing could have predicted the monstrosity of a day that was about to come.

What was supposed to be a short trip to the library, turned into a few hour long trip to the library. The book they were looking for wasn't anywhere to be seen. It wasn't where Hermione said it used to be, which Harry believed as that girl knew the library like the back of her hand, or anywhere else for that matter.

Eventually they stopped searching. The book was clearly not there. Someone else must have taken it. It was a book on potions after all and Professor Snape did not hold back on the essays due the next day or the difficult questions in class. Who knew when he was going to just turn towards you and ask you a question about what would happen if you stirred clockwise instead of counter-clockwise or maybe even asking you to say all the ingredients in a potion by the year they were discovered, or judging by this book, the entire history of the Polyjuice Potion.

"We can come back tomorrow, Harry. I'm sure it'll be back by then," Hermione said, already waiting for him by the exit.

Ron was waiting for the two in the Common Room, holding a tiny box of something Harry wasn't really sure what was. It looked like a box of breath mints or something by the looks of it, but by the look on his face, it almost looked like he didn't really want to eat whatever was in the box.

He wanted to ask about it, but Hermione beat him to it, sitting down beside him on the couch. "What's that?" Harry walked over and sat down as well, taking a look at the content of the box.

It contained a few weird looking pills which did not look like any breath mints Harry had seen before. They were almost a muddy green and when he leaned in to smell them or even take one, he quickly pulled away. They smelled awful. What were they?

"One of Fred and George's new products, still in development apparently," Ron replied, giving the little box a shake. The three watched as the pills rolled around. "What do they do?" Hermione asked, reaching a hand out to pick one up.

"Don't know, but I'm not going to try to find out. I don't want to grow an extra head or something."

"They gave them to you to test them?" Harry asked and Ron nodded. "You're welcome to try one, I'm not doing it."

"No thank you, but I know someone who would love to test them."

The trio walked down to the Great Hall, ready to eat some dinner. The box of the mysterious pills was in Harry's pocket and the boy had a small smile on his face. He knew exactly who fit the job of trying these pills.

Draco Malfoy.

"Harry, how are you going to make him eat one of those exactly?" Hermione asked, taking a seat by the table. "Yeah," Ron said, sitting down beside her. "I don't think going up to him and handing him one is going to work. If anything, he'll make you eat it or report you for trying to poison him."

"Who said he had to know?"

"Harry.." Hermione looked at him with one of those looks she always had whenever anything like this happened. "We don't know what those pills do," she continued. "What if he gets seriously injured? They'll expel you before you know it."

"Relax, 'Mione. Fred and George aren't murderers or anything. They gave them to me to try, remember?" Hermione turned to look at Ron now, the same look on her face. "Alright," she said with a sigh. "But if you two end up in trouble, those pills are going right back to Fred and George."

Somehow getting Malfoy to eat one of those pills was not as easy as they thought, which they didn't think was very easy to begin with. It wasn't like he could just walk over and throw it in his food. The boy despised him and he was constantly surrounded by his group of friends who also despised him, or "friends". There was no way they were hanging out with him willingly.

How was he supposed to get him to eat it?

"Harry, you've been staring at him for ages now." Ron gave his arm a poke, snapping him out of his thoughts. "I don't think that's going to make him eat it."

Hermione hadn't said much, probably because she didn't want to get involved in this, but finally she opened her mouth to speak. "I don't really want to be a part of this, but distract them and I'll put the pill in his drink."

"And how are you planning on doing that?" Ron asked. "I don't think walking over and dropping it in is going to work."

"Have you never heard of a little something called magic, Ronald?"

With the help of Hermione, it was fairly easy getting that pill in Malfoy's glass. All he had to do was to get up and walk past the table and he'd caught the blonde's attention, including his entourage. "Where are you going, Potter? Off to sign some autographs?" Harry stopped to reply and just then he noticed something. He recognised the green, mysterious pill as it flew through the air, stopping to drop right into the stupid, blonde's drink. He couldn't wait to see what was going to happen.

"Oh, yeah. Did you want one?" Draco just sneered in response, turning back to his friends.

"Did it work?" Ron asked as soon as Harry was seated. "Yeah." He wasn't really paying attention, too busy looking at Malfoy. He still hadn't picked up his glass. What if he was done eating? Then all that would've been for nothing.

But, just then the blonde by the Slytherin table picked up his glass, taking a long sip. He placed the glass down and resumed his conversation with the guy beside him.

"Did he drink it?" Ron asked. "I hope so," Harry replied, not taking his eyes off Malfoy for even a second. He didn't want to miss the effects of that pill. "Any minute now." The three sat in silence, watching Malfoy.

Nothing was happening.

Malfoy looked just the same, acted just the same and it didn't seem like that was going to change.

"Maybe he just hasn't gotten the pill yet?" Ron suggested and the three watched as Malfoy picked up his glass once again. This time, it seemed like he emptied it. "Do you see any difference?" Harry shook his head. "He looks the same. Maybe it takes a while?"

"You've been staring for a while now and it's not exactly subtle," Hermione informed the two a while later. "The pill probably doesn't do anything. Let's go check the library for that book before we go back to the Common Room. Malfoy can wait."

A few hours later the trio had gone to bed. As far as he knew, the pill hadn't done anything yet. Knowing Malfoy, he'd blame him and there were no professors knocking on the door, wanting to speak with him so far.

It made sense though. The pill was "under development". It might've failed and had no effect on Malfoy at all. Maybe it was made just to taste bad? Like a reverse breath mint?

Oh how wrong he was.


	2. Chapter 2

Draco Malfoy woke up rather early that day. He was woken up by his head pounding and his stomach turning so much he was afraid he was going to throw up as soon as he got out of bed. Great, he thought to himself, pushing the covers off. Getting sick was just lovely. He couldn't wait to spend his day in the bathroom.

He slipped out of bed and just now he noticed how blurry everything was. He tried blinking a few times, even rubbing his eyes, but the room was still just as blurry? Was he drunk? He couldn't remember drinking. He went straight to bed the night before. How would he be drunk?

The room might've been blurry, but he could still make out the colour scheme and even with his bad vision he could tell this was not the same room he'd fallen asleep in the night before. Where was this? Had he somehow gotten drunk in his sleep and then found someone in another house.

Oh no, don't let it be a Hufflepuff. Anything but a Hufflepuff. He would never be able to live that down, sleeping with a Hufflepuff.

After a minute of just standing there, wondering where he was and what he was doing there, he noticed some movement in the bed beside the one he'd been sleeping in. "Harry? What are you doing?"

"I-." Draco paused, squinting in an attempt to see who it was. And just in front of him was Ron Weasley's head poking out from the curtains. The odd thing was, he wasn't reacting like he usually would if the two crossed paths. He'd usually glare, maybe throw in an insult, but instead he was looking at him with a confused expression. "Harry? Are you okay, mate?"

Wait a second. Harry? Did Weasley just call him Harry? Clearly Draco wasn't the only one drinking. "Harry?" Ron looked a bit more worried now, pushing the curtains to the side to get out of bed. "Do you need me to take you to the Hospital Wing?" he asked. "Or Dumbledore? Is it your scar? Did you have a dream again?"

Why on earth was Weasley calling him Harry?

"Why the fuck are you calling me Harry? Did you have too much to drink, Weasley?"

Weasley looked taken aback, clearly not expecting that. "Harry.. Are you okay? Did you hit your head?" he asked. He took a step forwards and Draco took a few steps backwards, the back of his knees hitting the bed frame. What was happening? Why was he referring to him as Harry? Was this some sort of prank? "Get Draco drunk, place him in the Gryffindor dorm and call him Harry?" Wow, how funny. Prank of the year, right there.

"I'll go get Hermione." Weasley was gone in the matter of seconds, leaving Draco standing there, just as confused.

There were a pair of round glasses on the nightstand. Sitting down, he picked them up to look at them. They weren't in the greatest of shape. Was that tape? Taking one last look around he decided to put them on. And just like that his vision was fine.

Strange. Draco didn't need glasses. Potter needed glasses. Those were his glasses. Why did he have them? Was making his vision worse a part of this prank too?

Draco had a feeling this was something more than just a prank. Something a lot more.

Weasley wasn't back yet and Draco took the opportunity to find the bathroom. He needed to check the mirror and make sure his suspicions were wrong. There was no way they were. How was that possible? He found the bathroom eventually and he went straight over to the mirror, not even bothered if anyone else was in the room. He needed to look in that mirror.

Draco stopped in front of the mirror, his hands gripping the sink as he looked at himself. Except it wasn't himself who was looking back at him. It wasn't him, just like he'd suspected. His blonde hair was gone, replaced with darker, almost black hair. His skin was darker too, maybe not by a lot, but still. He looked a bit shorter and a bit more built and as he leaned in, his reflection did as well. His eyes were green.

He continued staring into those green eyes, feeling a lot more sick now, and Harry Potter stared right back at him.

He must've stood there for a long time because as he finally looked away from his reflection, ready to run for the nearest toilet he could throw up in, he came face to face with Longbottom. He looked just as worried as Weasley. "Are you okay, Harry?" he asked. "You've been standing there for a while now."

"What do you want?" Draco replied, rather harshly. "Can't you see I'm busy?"

"Sorry.. I was just wondering if you were okay. Ron told me you'd been acting really strange and he wanted me to come get you," Longbottom explained. "He and Hermione are waiting for you downstairs."

Draco turned back towards the mirror, taking another look at himself, or Potter as it wasn't actually him in the mirror. How did this happen? It had to be a Polyjuice Potion or something. This had to be a prank by those Weasley twins. There was no way Draco was actually Harry Potter. That wasn't poss-. "Harry? You're doing it again."

Speaking of Harry Potter. He had to find him, the real one. What if he was in Draco's body? Draco had to stop him before he made a fool of himself, of Draco. "Yeah, sorry. I got to go," Draco said, rushing out of the bathroom. "Ron and Hermione-."

"Can wait. I've got important things to do, Longbottom. Mind your own business."

He stopped by the stairs. He could hear Weasley and Granger down there, talking rather loudly. He was about to walk down when he realised something. Looking down, he saw a big pair of pyjama pants. Why were Potter's pants big enough to fit a troll or two? Anyway, big or not, they were pyjama pants. He wasn't about to walk around the school dressed like a slob, no matter if he looked like Potter or not. At the end of the day he was still Draco.

It was easy enough to find Potter's things. They were just by the bed he'd been sleeping in, which he just realised Potter's also slept in, gross. The problem was, Potter didn't have much of a fashion sense. Those shirts were just straight up ugly. The Chosen One also didn't seem to know of the word "organised" as the suitcase was just stuffed with all kinds of random things, from sweets to random socks without a match. With this mess he was never going to get dressed and go find Potter before class started.

Eventually he found the boy's uniform, his shirt was wrinkly which was annoying, but not surprising and he didn't find a sock of the same shade of gray, and got dressed. It felt a little weird to put on a Gryffindor uniform. He'd never done that before, nor was he ever planning on doing it ever again. He preferred green.

Weasel and the mudblood were waiting for him downstairs just like Longbottom had informed him. He couldn't help but sigh as he walked over to them, knowing they wouldn't let him leave until he explained himself. He didn't have time for this. He had to go get his body back before class.

"Ron told me you were acting weird, just standing by your bed." Draco nodded. "Did you have a dream? Do you want to go talk to Dumbledore?"

Potter went to Dumbledore to talk about his dreams? What a weird bunch those Gryffindors were. Still, this was a golden opportunity. "Yes, I'll go talk to him about.. those dreams. I'll go right now-."

"Are you sure you don't want some breakfast first? Neville said you looked awfully sick."

"I'm fine, I have to go, bye." He was out of the Common Room before the two could say anything else, quickly walking down the hall in what he hoped was the right direction. Gods, was this what it was like to have those as your friends? He could barely get a minute to himself.

"Hi, Harry."

Draco sighed.


	3. Chapter 3

Draco spun around, looking very annoyed as he looked at the one who'd dared to talk to him. It hadn't been any of Potter's best friends this time, but.. He wasn't sure what his name was. One of the other ones Potter talked to. The one that had a habit of blowing things up, potions most of the time and an occasional glass of water he apparently tried to turn into rum.

Those Gryffindors were a weird bunch.

"Yes? What do you want?" Draco asked harshly, not really in the mood to talk to any more of the Gryffindors. He wasn't ever in the mood to talk to them actually, but this time he really didn't want to. He had to find Potter, maybe give him a good punch, and demand him to fix this mess. Draco was not interested in staying in Potter's body, no matter how many opportunities he'd now gotten to ruin Gryffindor's chances of winning the house cup this year, and Potter's reputation, grades and social life.

If Potter was in his body, doing any of those things could risk making Potter do the same thing. So he was just going to find him and make him fix whatever this was.

"I was just saying hi, Harry."

"Oh.. Hi." Draco spun back around and continued walking.

Stopping in front of the entrance to the Slytherin Common Room, Draco realised he was never going to get in there. He looked like Harry Potter. Everyone in there loathed him. They were going to throw him right out of there. He was going to have to wait and once Potter, in Draco's body, came out, he'd have to pull him aside and into some cupboard or something just to make sure no one heard. Whoever heard that conversation would think the two had gone mad.

He took some steps back, leaning against the wall. He waited there, barely moving as he just stared at the entrance to the Common Room. Potter better not be in there making a fool of himself, of Draco. If he lost as much as one single house point, Gryffindor was going to be losing a lot more.

Being too busy thinking of all the ways he was going to make Potter pay, he barely noticed someone exiting the Common Room. He quickly stood up straight, stepping away from the wall. It wasn't Potter though, like he had expected and hoped.

It was his group of friends, but no Potter in Draco's body. Out of the four, it was Pansy who noticed him first. "Well, well. Look who we have here." The other three looked at him too now. None of them looked very happy to see him, which was new to Draco. "The Chosen One." She crossed her arms over her chest. "What do you want?"

"I need to speak to P-. Malfoy. I need to speak to Malfoy," Draco replied, almost forgetting he was in fact Potter, and Potter was him. "It's important."

"Is it now? Well, too bad." She gave him a fake smile before walking down the hall. The other three followed, all of them glaring at him as they walked past. Once they were out of sight, he turned his attention back towards the entrance. Potter had to leave at some point. Was he just not going to get out of bed and lose some house points for not going to class? What was he thinking? Couldn't he at least try to fix this? Staying in bed wasn't going to fix everything.

Draco was about to give up and leave before anyone else found him and decided to beat him up or whatever they usually did to Potter, when he heard someone else exit the Slytherin Common.

"Malfoy."

It was his own voice, but Draco could recognise that tone anywhere. He spun around and came face to face with himself. It was the strangest thing he'd ever seen. It was almost like looking in a mirror, except this Draco, who was still not actually Draco, wasn't doing what he was doing. He had his arms crossed over his chest and he did not look happy.

Draco took a moment to eye him up and down. His tie wasn't properly tied, his hair was messy. He looked like a mess in general, almost like a Potter version of himself. "Didn't bother trying to look like me, I see," he commented.

"What have you done?"

"What have I done? I haven't done anything. You're the one who did this, don't blame me, Potter."

"I haven't done anything."

"Well someone must have, and it sure wasn't me."

The two glared at each other, not saying anything else. After a few minutes of intense staring, Potter finally broke the silence. "We're going to Dumbledore, immediately, unless you want to confess first?"

"I'm not behind this. Why would I willingly put myself in your body? Out of everyone, why would I choose you?"

"To make Gryffindor lose, make a fool of me, lose my friends, the list goes on." Draco scoffed, crossing his arms over his chest as well. "Like I'd switch bodies with you to win the house cup, and notice how I said "switched". You're in my body and you can do the exact same thing, you know," he said. "And I know full well that if I do anything, you'll do the same. I'm not stupid."

"We're going to Dumbledore." Before Draco could reply, Potter had grabbed his arm and dragged him down the hall. "And what's he going to do?", Draco asked, trying to pull his arm back. He could walk on his own. "Find out what's happened I hope and fix this."

"Don't lie. It was you who got us into this, wasn't it? You and your annoying friends. They barely left me alone, you know."

"At least I have friends." Draco glared at him and finally he was able to pull his arm free. "I have friends," he argued. Who did Potter think he was? Some sort of loner? Not everyone hated him like he did. He had plenty of friends, like Blaise, Pansy, Crabbe and Goyle. They were his friends. They hung out, played Wizard's Chess, ate together, the list went on. Just because Potter and his little entourage hated him, didn't mean everyone else did. The world didn't revolve around him.

"Proper friends who aren't mudbloods and blood-traitors like yours."

"Oh, I'm sure they're a great bunch. What do you do for fun? Sit around and worship Voldemort?"

"How original."

Neither of the two said anything else after that, not until they were standing in front of the entrance to Dumbledore's office. It was Draco who broke the silence. "So? Are we going in or not?" he asked, clearly impatient. He wanted to get this over with already so he could get his body back and go to class. It'd be that easy, right? It was Dumbledore. He could fix it in a second.

"I'm not sure what the password is." Draco sighed. Great. Now they had to stand and wait for that old man to come out. He'd waited long enough on Potter.

"Chocolate Frog," Potter eventually said. Nothing happened.

"Excuse me?"

"He usually uses sweets from Honeydukes as a password to his office."

"Of course he does." Draco rolled his eyes, crossing his arms over his chest. "Well. It's clearly not that one."

"Oh, you don't say? How about you try then?" Potter replied, stepping aside. He bowed dramatically, but Draco didn't move. "Unlike you lot, I don't spend all my money on sweets and foolish prank items," he told the brunette, or now blonde. "So go right ahead. Go on. I want my body back by the time class starts, Potter. I'm not doing work for you."

"And neither am I."

Potter turned back around to continue trying to figure out the password. It was so weird to look at himself, without looking in a mirror. Was that how the back of his head always looked like or was it just Potter's lack of knowledge of hairbrushes? He could have at least tried to look a little like him. Tied his tie properly or something.

"As much as I am having fun right now, watching you in my body saying names of sweets out loud, which would make me look like an idiot if someone heard by the way, I don't have all day, Potter."

"It would go faster if you would be just a little helpful for once."

"Like I said, I don't spend my money on sweets. So go on, Potter, before you'll lose my house house points."

"My house will too, you know."

"Like that matters. Dumbledore will just give you some random points for just being alive anyway. Now get on with it."

A long list of sweets later, the gargoyle guarding the headmaster's office finally let the two inside. Draco sighed in relief, having thought the other was just joking about the sweets to make a fool out of him or something. He was not surprised it actually was the password though. "Finally. I was starting to think you were just straight up mental," he said and walked right past Potter, bumping into him on purpose.

The room was empty and Draco sighed once more, this time in frustration. "Great. All that time spent out there trying to figure out that dumb password and he's not even here," he complained. "If I have to go to class like this, I'm not doing anything to give your house points." He turned around to look at Potter. It was still just as weird to look at himself and he looked away a moment later.

"I wasn't expecting you to."

"We need to set some rules if we're going to be stuck like this for a while," Draco said, stepping closer. He looked back up at Potter, who were still in Draco's body. He tried to ignore the weird feeling he got, all of this was still just as strange, as he continued. "No house points are going to be lost. Not a single one." He held up a finger. "You lose one house point and I'll lose many more. Got it?"

"Fine, but this goes for you as well."

Draco nodded. "Fine."

He held up another finger. "Second, be believable. I'm not interested in you making a fool of me with your horrible sense of fashion and knowledge, or lack of knowledge, in how to properly dress yourself. I'm also not interested in my friends wondering what's wrong with me and thinking I've gone mad because of how you act. Act like me."

"Then you've got to act like me too." Potter reached a hand out to ruffle my, or his, hair. I flinched, taking a step away. "You've got to be nice, can you do that, Malfoy? No name calling, no getting annoyed at my friends, no fighting, no bullying, nothing."

"Deal."

"We'll meet up here at lunch. Dumbledore will probably be back by then."

"He better be."

A few moments later the two parted ways.


	4. Chapter 4

Class had started by the looks of it. The halls were empty, except an occasional student either skipping class or being too late as well. A few of them greeted him which was new. Some smiled. Draco tried his best to smile and act like Potter would, and not giving the random students his regular look of disgust and annoyance.

A positive thing about having to go back to the Gryffindor Common Room to get the books he needed was that Potter's annoying friends wouldn't be there to annoy him and never leave him alone. On the other hand, they'd do this in class instead. Were they always like that, always talking that much and worrying over every little thing Potter did?

It was when he stopped in front of the entrance he realised something. He needed the password to get inside. Was this one also some sweet from Honeydukes? It couldn't be that easy, or not that easy to Draco who didn't know that many names of sweets.

He could risk it and go to class without books, but that would result in losing even more house points for not only being late, but not bringing his books with him. What made it even worse was the fact that the class he was now very late for was Potions. Snape clearly didn't like Potter and never let the opportunity to take some points from his house slip. And losing Potter's house points, meant he was going to lose a lot more. That was the deal after all.

He stood there for a while, just staring at the painting as if that was going to make it let him inside. What else was he supposed to do? He had no idea what the password was. It could be anything from sweets to Harry Potter himself for all he knew.

"Hi, Harry."

Draco spun around to face whoever was behind him. Just when he needed him, Neville Longbottom. "Did you forget your books too?" the boy asked and Draco quickly nodded. He had to act like Potter now and Potter wasn't mean to Longbottom. "Uh, yes. But, Lo-. Neville?"

"Yes?"

He thought for a moment. How was he going to get the password out of him without making himself seem strange? So far the Gryffindors seemed to notice even tiny changes in how he acted and immediately started questioning him as soon as he acted strange.

"I was just wondering if the password changed," Draco lied, pointing to the painting. "What's the password again?" he asked and it didn't seem like Longbottom suspected anything. He just walked closer, standing beside Draco. "I don't think so. It changed a few days ago to..." The boy pulled a piece of parchment out of his pocket and studied it for a second. Draco ignored the urge to tell him to get a move on. Every second counted with Snape.

"Mimbulus mimbletonia."

"What?" Draco looked confused at him before the portrait swung open. He took a step back. "Oh, right. I must've mixed it up with the last one." Just as he got inside, he stopped. "Uh, thanks, L-. Thanks, Neville," he added just for good measure before he made his way up to the dormitories to get the books he needed.

He ran, knowing full well the longer time he spent would mean more and more points lost, which would again result in his own house losing even more points because he'd made that deal with Potter. He wasn't sure how late he was, just that he was really late. After slipping into the classroom he nearly walked over to the empty seat next to Blaise, but stopped himself before he could. He had to sit next to Weasley because that's what Potter did. As long as he left him alone with his own potion and wasn't planning on asking a few hundred questions on how he was doing, why he'd acted so weird, etc., he could make it through that class.

Placing his book down on the desk in front of him, he opened it and started looking for the right page. He took a look at Weasley's. Two hundred and seven. He turned his attention back towards his own book and continued flipping through the pages, only stopping when he felt a tap on his arm. He looked over at Weasley, but he wasn't looking at him.

"Potter."

Draco looked up to see Professor Snape standing right in front of him, not looking very happy. The professor had never been that mad at him before, but he technically wasn't this time either. He was looking at Harry Potter, not Draco Malfoy. Potter was the one getting the blame.

"I'm sorry, Professor," Draco said, trying his very best to sound like he meant it. "I forgot my books and I had to go get them," he explained, but the man in front of him didn't look any happier or forgiving. As long as he didn't take away too many points, it would be fine.

"Twenty points from Gryffindor."

"Twenty?"

"Twenty-five."

Draco pressed his lips into a thin line. Twenty-five points lost already. That was fine though. Potter had still not showed up. He'd lose more points and Draco could lose some more if he wanted to. They had a deal.

Potter showed up a few minutes later, his books in his hands. He took a look around the room and the two made eye contact for a few seconds before Draco looked away, turning his attention back on his book. It was still very strange to look at himself. It was like seeing a picture of himself in the Prophet or something, only in real life. That was Potter, but in his body.

"You're late, Mr. Malfoy."

"Yes, about that. I forgot my books and I couldn't find them. It won't happen again." Draco noticed in the corner of his eye that Potter made his way over to the empty seat next to Blaise, placing his books down before taking a seat. "Forgotten books seems to be a theme in this class." The professor glanced over at Neville who had arrived a moment earlier, late as well, resulting in even more points deducted. "Ten points from Slytherin." Potter got ten while he got twenty? He would've thought it was unfair, but as it was actually Potter losing the twenty points he didn't think of it as unfair.

The rest of the class was spent either taking notes while listening to Snape talk or brewing a potion with Snape walking around to check on every potion. He took a few extra trips over to Draco to check on his potion, clearly checking if he'd done something wrong yet. He glanced up at the professor as he continued stirring. He knew he'd done everything correctly so far so the man had nothing to complain about. Still he felt a little nervous, a little bit. He'd already lost fifteen more house points than Potter. If he lost more, his own house would lose even more in return.

Snape eventually left him alone again and Draco stopped stirring to take a look at his book. "He's just waiting for you to mess it up," Weasley whispered and Draco was so busy trying to find out where he'd left off in the recipe to recipe to realise it was him the redhead was whispering to. "I wouldn't be surprised if he criticised it for being too good." Draco finally looked up. "Huh? Right. Sure."

"What's up with you exactly?" And here we go again. Back to the worrying and questioning. He acted out of character a few times and all of the sudden they were all worried like something was seriously wrong with him. "Nothing," Draco replied, a bit annoyed. "Ever since this morning you've been acting a bit strange." Weasley leaned in closer and Draco scooted his chair further away. "Did you have another dream?" he asked quietly. Dream? What was it with all the talk about dreams?

"Uh, sure."

"Did you speak to Dumbledore about it?"

"He wasn't in his office. Do you know where he is by any chance?"

Weasley shook his head. "You should check later and talk to him about that dream. He'll know what it means."

"Sure."

Draco was on his way to his next class, with Weasley following him, when he heard a familiar voice, being his own. "Potter." The two stopped, the redhead looking ready to hex Potter any second. "What do you want, Malfoy?" he snarled and Draco reached an arm out to stop him from stepping any closer. He wasn't interested in any more points being lost because of the weasel. "I need to speak with you," Potter said, pointing to Draco.

"Alright."

He noticed the boy beside him's confused expression in the corner of his eye. "You're not really going to just go have a chat with him, right? Who knows what he's up to?"

"It'll only take a moment," Draco replied, finally letting his arm drop by his side as he trusted Weasley wouldn't attack Potter, who he thought was Draco. "Go on. I'll catch up to you." He only got another confused, mixed with a bit of worry, expression before the boy continued walking, looking over his shoulder once in a while. A moment later he was gone.

"Lost any points yet?" Potter asked, his arms crossed over his chest. "More than ten?"

"Twenty-five."

"How did you manage that?"

Draco rolled his eyes. "You should know. Snape hates you. I was late, lost twenty and I just repeated the number and he added five. I didn't even do anything. I arrived before you."

"Aw, upset you don't get your special treatment today?"

"Was this all you wanted to talk about?" Draco asked, an eyebrow raised. "Yes, it was actually."

"Alright then." He eyes the other up and down once fore turning around, walking away.

"And please tie that tie properly. It looks like a child did it. You're in a Malfoy's body, act like one."


	5. Chapter 5

Lunchtime eventually rolled by and it wasn't a moment too soon. Harry wanted his body back before the Slytherin could do anything that would result in him losing his friends, getting in trouble once he got his body back, etc. etc. The only thing that was holding Malfoy back was the fact that Harry had the power to do the exact same to him.

He sat down with Malfoy's supposed group of friends. It had been so strange to have them be nice to him for once. They obviously had no idea he wasn't Malfoy, but still. It wasn't everyday he played Wizards Chess with Blaise Zabini or ate breakfast and had civilised conversations with the group of Slytherins. Who would have thought Malfoy wasn't a rude, stuck up bully all day everyday?

Well, he could be for all he knew, after all he was still Harry, but judging by the lack of weird looks he got from his normal, not mean behaviour, he most likely wasn't.

He kept an eye on the Gryffindor table while also trying to pay attention to the conversation in case anyone said anything to him. Malfoy was nowhere to be seen yet and he took the opportunity to eat a little. He'd skipped breakfast, worried it'd come back up again. That morning he'd spent a while in the bathroom, trying to figure out what was happening and why Draco Malfoy was in the mirror. He'd thought it was a dream, because who wouldn't, but after pinching his arm to the point it was covered in red splotches, he was pretty certain it wasn't a dream.

The first person he'd come across that morning was Blaise, and as he at that point didn't know he'd somehow switched bodies with Malfoy he was on the verge of having a heart attack. He had opened his mouth to explain himself, but then the other male had said something a bit odd. He'd called him Draco. Harry had looked confused at him, wondering what he was talking about. He'd then gone to the bathroom to take a look in the mirror.

He noticed a familiar mop of dark hair and he immediately shot up out of his seat. He got a few confused looks, but he ignored them. "I just realised I forgot something, I got to go." With that he quickly made his way through the Great Hall, making sure to take a route where Malfoy could clearly see him, and left. He waited a few moments outside before Malfoy finally exited as well, walking right past him. Harry didn't even need to ask where he was going. He knew.

They stopped in front of the entrance to the headmaster's office. Hopefully the password was still the same. Malfoy took a look around before turning back towards the gargoyle. "Fizzing Whizbee," he said like he was worried something as simple as a saying the name of a sweet was that bad. It was a password. It wasn't even his password. The two headed inside, still not saying anything.

Malfoy eventually broke the silence. "Great. He's not here now either," he said with an eye roll. "Where is he? Doesn't he work?"

"I'm sure he'll be back any second. He's most likely eating." The two took a seat, once again not saying anything for a while. A few minutes passed and there was still no sign of Dumbledore. Hopefully he'd be back soon. Lunch was almost over.

"Anyone suspicious of you yet?" Harry eventually asked. His friends must have noticed something was off about him. It was Malfoy after all. He wouldn't have been surprised if he'd gotten into an argument with Ron or called someone something mean by now. Hermione must have noticed for sure. If anyone noticed, it would be her.

Malfoy turned his head to look at him. "No. What about you? Made a fool of my name yet, Potter?"

"No. I don't have to. You can do that yourself."

The other rolled his eyes, turning his attention back towards whatever he'd been looking at before. "I bet I'd be a much more convincing Harry Potter than you'd be me. You barely know how to tie a tie, let alone be a Malfoy," he said. Harry raised an eyebrow. "Really? You do realise you have to be nice to people, right? Unlike you, I don't go around and bully people."

"Now that wasn't very nice now was it?"

"Like you're ever nice to me."

"Touché."

"Did you just admit I had a good point?"

"Don't get used to it."

Another few minutes passed. The headmaster was nowhere to be seen. He heard a sigh from the chair Malfoy was currently seated in and Harry turned to look as the other stood up. "Lunch is over. I better go get your books and go to class. Hopefully I don't meet your annoying friends on the way."

Just as they were about to part ways, Malfoy stopped. "Get over here," he said, getting a confused expression in return. He hesitated, but walked over to him. What did he want now?

"What is it?"

"I can't stand looking at that tie. Did no one ever teach you how to tie one?" Malfoy, now shorter than him, yanked him closer by his tie. "No, no one taught me that," he replied. "Well you better pay attention then, Potter, because if you're going to be me, you need to at least be presentable." He then proceeded to untie his tie to tie it again, properly this time. It was a bit tight around his neck, which Harry wasn't sure if was on purpose or not, and he used a hand to loosen it once Malfoy was done.

"There. Now go brush your hair. You look too much like yourself."

And then Draco Malfoy was gone.


	6. Chapter 6

"Draco. There you are." A few seconds passed before he realised whoever called his, or Malfoy's, name was talking to him. He stopped, turning around to see who it was. "Yes, here I am. What did you want, Blaise?" he asked, sounding a bit impatient as he was already a couple of minutes late. "Class has already started. Could you hurry?"

"Did you do the Transfiguration homework?" the other boy asked, walking up to him. "Uhh.. I don't know." Malfoy must have done it right? He'd tell him if not, to avoid losing points. Not like it mattered though, Malfoy had lost more.

"You don't know?"

"I'll check once we get to class, which already started by the way."

It was so strange to not have the Slytherins looking at him with looks of disgust or annoyance. Who would have thought Draco Malfoy had friends he had civilised conversations with?

Once he was in class, the pair losing some points for being late and resulting in Harry having now lost twenty, five points less than Malfoy, he started looking through Malfoy's bag to see if he'd done this homework or not. If he hadn't, he'd lose even more points, passing twenty-five for sure. But just as he was about to lose hope, he came across some parchment. He pulled it out to look and was relieved to see he had indeed done the homework. That was good. He would still be behind on lost points.

He read through the paragraphs, making sure this was the right homework. He had to admit, Malfoy had nice handwriting. It was so clear and neat, almost looking like it could have been printed if it hadn't been written in cursive.

After he was done, he pushed the parchment over to Blaise for him to copy it or whatever he needed it for, not that he cared. He'd copied Hermione's so he wasn't one to judge.

Sometimes he forgot he was in Malfoy's body, mostly in class as they were the same classes he went to as himself, the only difference being he wasn't sitting with his own friends, and that he was in Malfoy's body. He was also still not reacting all of the time if someone called Malfoy's name, either it being Blaise from beside him or anyone else for that matter, especially if he wasn't paying attention. He couldn't count the times he'd been poked that day by someone wanting his attention, because he hadn't realised they had been talking to him.

Not to mention whenever someone said his name. He turned his head every time, not realising he wasn't the one they were talking to until he saw himself, or Malfoy, sitting with Ron a few desks away. Whenever someone noticed, he would glare at Malfoy instead before turning his attention back to McGonagall or the notes he'd been taking.

Other than that, acting like Malfoy hadn't been that difficult. Of course he didn't go all the way. He wasn't bullying anyone, but he also hadn't gone out of his way to be nice. No one was suspecting anything which was good. Hopefully this was the case with Malfoy as well and hopefully he had friends left when he got his own body back.

They hadn't talked since they parted ways after Malfoy had tied his tie, telling him it looked bad. He didn't get why he bothered, Harry hadn't learned anything from him tying it and he was not about to go to him every time he needed his tie tied. No one had said anything about his tie before that. Even with a poorly tied tie he was a convincing Draco Malfoy.

"You were late."

Harry looked up as he immediately recognised the voice. It was his own. Malfoy was standing by his desk, looking through what he assumed was his own homework. He wasn't looking at him and he kept a distance from his desk to not seem too obvious.

"I talked to the friend of yours. Besides, I only lost ten. I'm still behind with five points."

"Too bad."

"Oh, yes. I'm sure you'd have the time of your life coming up with things to do that would lose my house points and possibly embarrass me while you're at it."

"I'm not going to deny that."

He stood there for a moment before he continued talking. "When are you going to tell me how you managed to do this?" he asked. "What? Is it that bad? I got help from Hermione," Harry replied and Malfoy finally looked up from the parchment he was holding. He looked at him with an eyebrow raised. "Not that bad? It's horrible. And of course that mudblood helped you, I bet Weasel did too and the rest of your annoying friends."

"What?"

"Don't act innocent, Potter. I know you did it."

"Wait, what are you talking about?"

Malfoy rolled his eyes, rolling the parchment up before stepping closer to his desk. "You know exactly what I'm talking about. This." He pointed to himself before pointing to Harry. "What did you think? This?" He held up the roll of parchment. "Oh." Once again Malfoy rolled his eyes.

"It wasn't me though," Harry said. "I didn't do anything. Why would I want this?"

"Well it wasn't me either. So it was definitely you," Malfoy replied. "How did you do it? Did you stay up late at night to make some illegal potion? Did that mudblood find a random curse you thought it'd be fun to use on me?" Harry shook his head. "I haven't done anything. There's no potion, no spell, no-. Oh."

"Oh?" Malfoy bent down to rest his palms on the desk, glancing at his group of friends that were luckily not paying attention as their attention was on something else. "Realised it's your fault, did you? Did you forget about your illegal potion?" He raised an eyebrow, waiting for an answer. He didn't get one though.

"So? Did you? Are you deaf or something?"

Harry pushed his chair back, standing up. Still not giving Malfoy any answer he made his way over to the door. He paused as McGonagall called on him, finally saying something. "I just need the bathroom, I'll be back in a second," he said before rushing out of the classroom, leaving Malfoy standing by his desk wondering where he was going.


End file.
